Chapter Text
It was the morning of the Choosing, and the Spire was quiet. Far above, a winged shaped drifted, gliding in lazy circles on the rising thermals.
Green wings spread wide, Coulson surveyed his territory. The rising sun was warm on his scales, baking out the chill of the night. Between his neckridges, his rider sat, bolt upright.
Fury was the Leader of the Spire, and was green Coulsons rider. Together, they surveyed their domain. No words were necessary, they flew in silence. They have been together for so long now that it was instinct. This would be the only silence they would likely get this day.
Beneath them, at the base of the Spire, from the dark mouth of the Hatching Cavern, a bellow came.
Sounds like Thor is awake Coulson noted, adjusting his glide into a downward spiral.
“Greeting the day again. Will his rider train that out of him?” Fury asked.
The draconic rtumble that passed for laughter vibrated through Coulson’s frame, and his amusement trickled through the bond-link.
“He’ll be doing the training, not the rider” and Fury permitted himself a slight smile.
And they’ll all be trained by us. Will we make it work, Bonded?
Fury rested a dark hand against the scales, reassuringly. “We’ll make it work, Coulson, we’ll make it work.”
This far above the Spire, Rider and Dragon could let themselves feel the worries about this planned course. This far from prying and watchful eyes, they could let slip the mask of the Leaders, let slip the need to always know everything.
Usually, they did know everything, but the Choosing was always a wildcard event.
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This was a joyous day. In the barracks for the candidates, anticipation was high. They were clustered in groups and huddles, debating their chances.
Steve Rogers, Clint Barton and Bruce Banner had formed their own group. Steve was the oldest and had served three years as a side-rider on a blue. He wasn’t shy about sharing his knowledge. Bruce had been taking note of every word, and had compiled a pile of papers. Clint was quiet, but observant. He had been the one to quell the rash of pranks that some of the other candidates had decided to carry out.
“When will they call us out?” Bruce wondered aloud, running one hand through his hair, while his other leafed through the pages of notes.
“Anytime today,” Steve replied.
“Rider Sitwell said after the noon meal,” Clint chimed in, and smiled faintly. “I was eavesdropping yesterday.”
“So what do we do till then?” Bruce asked.
“We wait,” Steve said patiently.
It wasn’t easy to wait, but there was no choice. Finally though, after a lunch which barely any of them touched, Rider Sitwell entered the barracks, hands on his leather clad hips.
“Rise and shine, children, Maria wants you front and centre,” he announced. “Good luck, and be yourself. The dragons will know.”
Obediently, the candidates formed up in two neat lines, before exiting in lockstep. After the darkness of the barracks, the light outside blinded them. When the fireworks in their eyes subsided, they took in the view.
The Spire was honeycombed with caves and with ledges. Every ledge housed at least two dragons today, jewel like eyes gleaming, all looking down at the sandy floor. In front of the gaping maw that was the Hatching Cavern, green Coulson sat like a statue. Leader Fury stood beside him, and even the noisiest of the candidates fell silent when his harsh, one-eyed gaze passed over them. Rider Sitwell had vanished into the cavern.
The candidates had spent plenty of time outside on the sandy floor, listening and learning. They had felt the eyes of the dragonets on them from in the darkness, and had speculated at night about their chances.
The open, sandy space was surrounded by the Spirefolk, Riders and workers alike. Visitors from the surrounding city were there, and the Mayor had a special stand for himself and his aides. All eyes were on the candidates.
Steve nodded to the Riders that he knew, and Bruce trailed behind him like a duckling, mouthing a reminder of his notes. Clint kept his eyes focused ahead, trying to pierce the darkness, but the observant would have noticed his lips twitching as he repeated Bruce’s notes.
White Maria emerged suddenly, aloof and regal, snaking out of the darkness. She cast a withering look over the standing candidates, and hissed disdainfully. The forked ends of her tail whipped in agitation, but a look from Coulson stilled their motion.
Silence fell.
With a happy roar, a gold dragon emerged into the sunlight. Already he was huge for his young age, only slightly smaller than green Coulson. The gold bounced from foot to foot as if unable to keep still, his spiked tail lashing back and forward. Behind him slunk a shadow, black scales gleaming a sickly green where the sunlight touched.
I am Thor! the gold proclaimed, voice echoing loudly through the minds of everyone present. I am here to claim my rider. Where is he?
More silence.
“I thought they knew who their riders were?” Bruce whispered to Steve.
The golds bright head had been drooping as no-one had stepped forward. That was until Bruce spoke, the only one to break the silence. With great bouncing steps, the gold crossed the sand to Bruce, and flopped down beside him.
You are my rider Thor proclaimed again, this time directly into Bruce’s mind. Lightning crashed and the wind howled in the distance as the connection was made. But Bruce and Thor stood together in the centre of the maelstrom, unable to tell where the human ended, and the dragon began.
Outside their minds, in reality, Bruce half knelt, half fell with the impact of a sentient mind twining into his own. He laid a shaking hand on the blazing scales, accepting.
Clint had stopped paying attention to Bruce’s Choosing as soon as the gold had flopped down beside him. He was pleased for his friend, but he wasn’t going to be distracted. His eyes had danced over a few of the other background Choices, but had not settled for long.
A warm, rich voice chuckled in the back of his mind, coiling round his thoughts like spider silk. She was red, his Tasha, a red so dark as to be nearly black, Lithe and sinewy, she slithered out of the Hatching Cavern. At the sight of her forked tail, the sign of a female, a roar went up from the crowd. His Tasha ignored the shouts, and made her way straight to his side. The twin tendrils of her tail snared his ankles, her wings flared to block out the world, and all he could see were her gleaming eyes.
Mine
“She’s perfect for the project,” Fury commented silently to Coulson, who didn’t twitch, but broadcast his feelings of agreement.
Maria rumbled sternly, and a blue head peeked out of the Cavern.
Can I finish...? the blue started.
No Maria said firmly.
The blue grumbled, and gave a last look at the cave, before turning towards the candidates and pulling himself fully into the light.
Steve had cheered for Bruce, and applauded for Clint. He didn’t mind not being Chosen. He had a good position as side-rider on blue Howard, and Rider Erskine had assured him he would be welcomed back with open arms.
There was a metal tang at the back of his throat, and he coughed, to try and rid himself of the feeling. The sand at his feet was an iron red, swirling into abstract shapes, along with the more familiar triangles, polygons and ovals.
You ride for my sire? a voice whispered. Not any more. I think I’ll choose you. Call me Tony.
With that, as Steve sank to his knees as the bond sunk into his heart and mind, the blue returned to the Cavern.
Black wings flared out indignantly as the last remaining dragon sat back on his hind legs and looked up at Coulson.
Are these all there are to choose from? he asked.
Yes Coulson said simply.
Not good enough. the black said with a sidelong glance at Thor. I am not content to settle for just any Rider. Mine must be perfect.
Loki Coulson warned, with a snap of his tail tip to betray his irritation.
Thor huffed and nudged Bruce with his nose. Bruce fell over.
Choose, Loki Maria chimed in.
No! I’ll find a Rider, a better Rider of my own! You’ll be proud of me for waiting! and sand raised in a blinding cloud as Loki took off, wings beating heavily.
It wasn’t unknown for a dragon not to Choose, but Fury and Coulson shared the same thought.
More trouble